Several of them tossed around some heavy names in comparison: some of the most important – and confounding – directors in the business. And their names were being bandied about in a review for a man whose first film was called, “House of 1,000 Corpses” (and it lived up to that promise).

Sitting down in a theater with a total of five other occupants – three of which were with me – I was at least happy to experience his brand of Satanic madness without the added discomfort of being surrounded by strangers.

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But I was wrong.

Nothing can make this movie a tolerable experience to be shared with other people. It is best viewed alone, in a dark and comfortable space, with plenty of your inebriant of choice on hand to help you process what you’re about to see.

Don’t read that the wrong way: it’s not a bad movie, not by a long shot. Zombie is a fanboy of the genre he’s trying to reinvent. And, like other great film auteurs (Quentin Tarentino, anyone?), he wears his influences on his sleeve. It is just absolutely not a mainstream film; despite its distribution deal with Anchor Bay, it still premiered in less than 400 theaters nationwide.

It may be safe to toss around David Lynch, John Carpenter and Stanley Kubrick, because those influences are there. But there are two vital other influences whose presence was also felt – particularly in the movie’s disturbing final third; the transmogrifying body horror of David Cronenberg, and the over-the-top religious imagery of Ken Russell.

The plot of the film is fairly routine: Sheri Moon Zombie (the director’s wife, finally showing some decent chops in the movie’s more intense moments) plays a DJ in the town of Salem, Massachusetts, who plays a mysterious record over the airwaves that, in turn, has a strange effect on the women of Salem.

The movie mostly follows Zombie’s character as she slips deeper and deeper into delusion, blurring the lines between fantasy and reality by subtly suggesting that the in-recovery DJ may be in a self-induced paranoid drug haze.

In its best moments, the film’s imagery is beautiful and intense – a scene where Zombie kneels in front of a neon cross simmering in waves of heat is as visually striking as anything Kubrick ever put to film.

At its worst, it’s Rob Zombie trying to shock us – the cheapest form of entertainment. We’re talking rubber penises and sexually charged scenes bordering on torture. The problem is, some of what you’re seeing and hearing borders on genius; inspired madness beyond his usual style of insanity.

That’s what makes the film’s more prurient moments so frustrating. And some of the images in the final minutes will leave your jaw on the floor – if you’re bold enough to keep them open that long.

One thing Zombie does get right is finding a pitch-perfect cast of veteran actors who are still capable at turning out amazing performances. Patricia Quinn, famous for playing Magenta in the seminal cult classic “The Rocky Horror Picture Show,” channels Vanessa Redgrave in a scene that recalls Beatrice Straight’s soliloquy on the afterlife in “Poltergeist.”

And Meg Foster – virtually unknown outside of a series of B movies and Carpenter’s “They Live” – is brash, bold and downright astounding as convicted witch Margaret Morgan. Will she be nominated for an Oscar? Hell no, and she shouldn’t be. Will her performance be whispered about in hushed tones between bong hits and the quieter moments on Black Sabbath’s “Master of Reality” in darkly lit dorms and tapestry-laden living rooms? Most assuredly.

Honestly, I am glad to see a movie like this playing in a cinemaplex on a screen across the hall from Tom Cruise’s bloated and uninspired sci-fi eye candy, “Oblivion.” And I appreciate Zombie’s efforts very much and his ambition to reach beyond the slasher genre. In his heart, I know Zombie wants to do well – his love of film and classic horror shows through in every lushly lit frame. But I also feel that this is not his masterpiece.

However, I hope for all of our sakes that he keeps on striving for perfection, because when it happens it will be brilliant.